Time
by Tez
Summary: Mac is in a car accident, the result of which has unforseen consequences. HM.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG. But hey, if you're looking to get rid of it, I'll take it.

A/N: This story takes place after Iron Coffin. I know the plot's been done to death, but honestly, there's only so many ways we poor fanfiction writers can atone for the sins of the actual show's writers past season 4.

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En route from Norfolk to Georgetown

Mac

            "Colonel?"

            I glance up from the report I'm reviewing and look over at Bud, who drew the short stick and got stuck driving us home from our completed investigation in Norfolk.

            "What's on your mind, Lieutenant?"

            He looks over at the report in my lap and then back out at the road. "I don't want to interrupt, ma'am. But I have a problem…it's kind of personal matter."

            Bud gives me another nervous look and I shake my head. I always find his propensity to ask for my help in personal matters endearing, if only because I know he wouldn't bring it up if he didn't respect my opinion.

            "Bud, just ask me. And please call me Mac. We're not in the office."

            "Yes, ma'am," he replies automatically. I smile, resigned. "I mean Mac. Harriet's birthday is next week."

            "Ah." I grin, setting aside the report of our actions in Norfolk. This is way more interesting. "Trying to figure out what to get her?"

            He nods, eyes leaving the road long enough to look imploringly up at me. "If you had any ideas, ma'am, I could really use some help."

            "Well, do you have any idea what she wants? Has she mentioned anything?"

            He shakes his head, crestfallen. "She said she'll love whatever I get her, but I know I'm going to get it wrong, ma'am."

            I laugh. "There's no wrong answer, Bud, but I don't think it'll hurt if I give you a few pointers."

            "Thanks, ma'am," he says, looking comically relieved. "I've really got no clue where to start."

            "Well, diamonds are a girl's best friend. What about –"

            I'm cut off as what feels like a giant sledgehammer smacks into the passenger's side of the car. I think I see an 18-wheeler in a surreal upside-down position as the rental car flips over, and then I clench my eyes shut against the pain exploding in my head as everything goes black.

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Two hours later…

JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA

Tiner

            "JAG Headquarters, Petty Officer Tiner speaking…yes ma'am, let me find him for you." I rise from my desk and make my way to Commander Rabb's office, reaching the door at the same time the older man emerges with his briefcase in his hand. He rolls his eyes. 

            "Tiner, can't it wait until tomorrow?" he pleads. "I've been here for more than fourteen hours."

            "It's Bethesda Naval Hospital calling, sir," I reply, feeling a little sorry for the obviously exhausted commander. "Line one."

            He sighs heavily. "Thanks, Tiner." Taking the five steps over to Lieutenant Sims' empty desk, he picks up her phone and transfers the call. "Commander Rabb," he says, and pauses for a moment. "Yes, that's me." 

            As he listens, his face goes completely white, and his free hand grabs the edge of Lt. Sims' desk. "When? Is she all right?" he demands. He doesn't seem to like the answer. "I'll be right there," he promises, slamming the phone down into the receiver. He looks up and finds me still watching him, slack-jawed. 

            "Tiner, call Lieutenant Sims and have her meet me at Bethesda," he calls over his shoulder, running for the stairs. "It's Mac and Bud. There's been an accident."

            Those words hit me like a sucker punch, and I grab blindly for the phone he just hung up as he disappears through the double doors.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG. If I did, we would have taken our cue from Buffy and the season nine premiere would have been JAG: The Musical.

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Bethesda Naval Hospital

Harm

            I hit the doors to the Bethesda ER at full speed, terror fueling my steps. The phone call from the hospital came as I was walking out the door of JAG Ops, but Harriet left hours before that, so I'm not sure if she'll be here yet or not. After a moment of frantic searching I spot her sitting in the waiting room, holding little AJ and wiping at eyes that  look painfully red from crying.

            "Harriet!" I call across the room, and she jumps out of her seat.

            "Oh, sir!" She meets me halfway and practically falls into my arms, weeping, and that sets little AJ off. I push her back gently and kiss AJ's forehead. 

            "Harriet, where are they? What's going on?"

            She presses a hand to her mouth. "I don't know. No one will tell me anything. They just called and said there was an accident…I don't know what to do…"

            I press my cell phone into her hand. "Call the admiral right now and check on his ETA. I'll get some answers."

            She nods resolutely, flipping the phone open as I head for the information desk.

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Admiral Chegwidden's home

Chegwidden

            I've just finished reviewing my report for my meeting with the SecNav tomorrow, which I'm not looking forward to in the least. Having to make nice with that officious jerk ruins my whole week. Stacking the report on top of a pile of case files, I'm seated in my armchair for less than three seconds when my phone rings. I indulge myself with a put-upon sigh before getting back up and grabbing the portable phone from the counter. 

            "Chegwidden."

            "Admiral?" The teary voice on the other end of the line makes me forget about the quiet night I had planned for myself. 

            "Harriet, is that you? What's wrong?"

            "It – sir, Bud and Colonel Mackenzie were in an accident –"

            Her voice breaks again and I try to be patient with my distraught officer, although I'm gripping the portable so hard I'm afraid it might snap in two. 

            "Are they all right, Lieutenant?"

            As I hoped, the reminder of her rank seems to help her pull it together. "I don't know, sir. Commander Rabb and I are at Bethesda now, but no one will tell me anything."

            I'm already snatching my cover and trenchcoat, keys in hand. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Try and keep Rabb from killing any of the medical personnel."

            She manages a shaky laugh. "I'll do my best, sir."

            We hang up and I'm out the door, intent on setting a new speed record for the drive from here to Bethesda. 

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Bethesda Naval Hospital

Harm

            The receptionist's nametag says Sunny, but she doesn't look like she lives up to it. Right now I don't really care. If Sunny wants to go head to head with me, she'll lose. I rap my knuckles on the desk and she looks up, obviously bored. 

            "Can I help you?"

            "My partner and my friend were just brought in. They were in a car accident. I need to know their condition and I need whatever paperwork needs to be filled out, and I need to speak to their doctors ASAP."

            She heaves a gusty sigh. "What were the names?"

            "Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and Lieutenant Bud Roberts."

            She taps something into the computer and then looks up at me. "Are you Harmon Rabb, Jr.?"

            I hand her my military ID and she hands me a stack of forms. "This is Colonel Mackenzie's paperwork. I'll need Harriet Sims-Roberts to fill out Lieutenant Roberts' forms. I can't give you any information on their conditions, but I'll send a doctor out to speak to you as soon as I can."

            "That's not good enough," I inform her, and she gives me a stony look. 

            "It's all you're going to get."

            We stare each other down for a moment, and then I whirl around and head back to where Harriet's waiting for me. I'm resourceful; I can come up with another way to find out what the hell's going on. 

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            I set the forms down on the table next to Harriet's things and she looks over at me with a hopeful expression. 

            "The admiral's on his way. Did they tell you anything?"

            I square my jaw. "No, but they're going to. Go up to the information desk and get Bud's forms from the receptionist. I'm going back to the exam rooms."

            She gives me a wary look. "Commander, you're not allowed back there."

            I shake my head. "Harriet, I don't really care."

            Harriet nods, looking determined. "I'll distract the receptionist."

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            I duck through the doors to the treatment rooms, avoiding detection by either the receptionist or the MPs in the waiting room thanks to the performance Harriet's putting on at the desk. I'm glad she's giving Sunny a hard time; I'd be doing the same if I weren't so worried about Mac. 

            I look around for a minute, hoping to spot a white coat, but all I see in nurses in colorful scrubs and patients. Then I spot something promising; the treatment board. I scan it for a moment before I find 'Roberts' – he's listed as being in Exam Room 3. I can't find 'Mackenzie' on the first board, but I spot it on the second one. My heart sinks when I realize where she's listed: ICU, Bed 14. The ICU is never a good sign. 

            Turning on one heel, I start looking for Exam Room 3. I know I can't sneak up to the ICU, but maybe Bud can tell me what's going on.

---------------

            "-and you'll have to keep it dry for six weeks."

            "Yes, sir." The mumbled reply is Bud's voice, and I don't think twice about throwing the curtain back. 

            "Commander Rabb!" he exclaims, looking relieved and guilty at the same time. 

            "Excuse me, sir, you can't be here," the doctor begins, but he's made the unfortunate mistake of wearing his uniform. 

            "Stand down, Lieutenant," I order him, glancing at his bars and realizing I outrank him. "Bud, what the hell happened? Where's Mac?"

            He hangs his head. "I don't know, sir. We were hit by a truck – I swear, I never saw it coming, sir."

            I wave a hand impatiently. "Bud, what happened to Mac?"

            "Colonel Mackenzie?" the doctor asks, and I turn to him. 

            "Yes. I'm her partner. Do you know what's going on?"

            "She's in intensive care," he explains. "Her injuries were mostly superficial, with the exception of a broken wrist, but she's got a severe concussion. She hasn't woken up yet, so we moved her to the ICU as a precaution."

            "Get me up there." 

            Apparently my tone brooks no argument, because the doctor leans in quickly to put the finishing touches on the cast on Bud's ankle before standing back up.

            "I'll take you to her. Lieutenant, I'll have them send your wife back when she gets here."

            "She's already here," I tell him absently, occupied with getting upstairs to see Mac. "She's in the waiting room."

            The doctor turns on his heel and finally utters the words I've been waiting to hear. 

            "If you'll come with me, Commander, I'll take you to Colonel Mackenzie."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG. insert amusing phrase here

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Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Harm

            "Commander Rabb, this is Doctor Bynes. He's in charge of Colonel Mackenzie's case. If the two of you will excuse me, I need to get back to the ER."

            I barely notice his departure, sighting ICU-14 down the hall as I shake hands with Bynes. "That's her room?" I ask, gesturing, and the larger man nods. 

            "We'll talk as we walk," he proposes, leading me down the hall. "The major issue is her concussion. She hasn't regained consciousness since the accident. If she does that, we're looking at very good odds that she'll make a full recovery."

            Something in his tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. My hand on his arm stops him inches from the door to Mac's room. "Doctor, what do you think her odds are?"

            He sighs. "I'll be straight with you, Commander. The fact that she doesn't have any serious injuries other than the concussion is a definite plus, but I'm very concerned that she hasn't woken up yet. In a case like this, her chance of survival drops significantly for every hour she stays unconscious."

            I shake my head resolutely. I've got too much faith in my partner - the mean, green, kick-ass marine - to even contemplate that outcome. "She'll wake up."

            The doctor gives me a slow nod. "There's no rule that says you can't go in and sit with her. Maybe give her a little encouragement?"

            I acquiesce and he leads me into the room. I halt just inside the door, feeling like someone's kicked me in the stomach. In all of the running around to find Mac, I forgot to prepare myself for the sight of her lying motionless in a hospital bed. I'm not used to seeing her so helpless, and it cuts me right to the core. 

            Bynes' hand on my shoulder brings me back to myself. I step forward, getting a better look at her and cringing at the dark bruise on her forehead. I sit down in one of the visitor's chairs, which are as acutely uncomfortable as I remember them being, and take Mac's good hand in both of mine. It looks like it escaped completely unscathed, but I still try not to squeeze it too tightly. I'm afraid that, fragile as she looks right now, I might break her.

            "Just push the call button if you need anything," he advises, disappearing back out the door and leaving me alone with my injured partner.    

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Bethesda Naval Hospital, ER waiting room

Chegwidden

            I restrain my surprise when Brumby comes in with Renee Peterson on his heels, entering the room even as Mac's doctor leaves to go back upstairs and check on her. I can't imagine anyone would have called Rabb's girlfriend, so she and Brumby must have been together. To her credit, she at least looks concerned. Brumby wastes no time hurrying over to me. 

            "How is Sarah?" he pleads, obviously distraught. 

            I shake my head. "She's not out of the woods yet."

            "Lieutenant Roberts?" Renee asks.

            "He's all right," I reply, pleased that she bothered to ask. "Harriet's back there with him now." I glance behind me again, but my namesake is still sleeping peacefully in a visitor's chair.  

            "I can sit with the kid if you two want to talk," she offers, and I try not to roll my eyes at her well-meaning offer. How Rabb could be dating that woman when he's got Mac right there in front of him is something I've never understood.

            "I'd appreciate that, thank you, Ms. Peterson," I reply, clapping a hand to Brumby's shoulder. "Let's talk over here."

            We stop fifteen feet away and he gives me an imploring look. "What do you know?"

            I sigh, rubbing my eyes with a tired hand. "The biggest concern is her head injury. The car was hit on the passenger's side by a truck. The driver fell asleep behind the wheel. The fact that Mac didn't have any skull fractures was apparently a miracle, but she hasn't woken up yet. The longer she stays in the coma, the less likely it is she'll wake up at all. Her other injuries were minor scrapes and bruises and a broken wrist. The docs are saying that if she wakes up soon, there's a good chance she'll be back on her feet in a week or two. If not…"

            He leans back against the wall, intertwining his fingers and pressing his thumbs to the bridge of his nose. "Can I see her?" he asks finally, and I sigh again. 

            "There isn't supposed to be anyone up there for more than a few minutes."

            "Then where's Rabb?" he asks, but the resigned tone in his voice tells me he already knows.

            "Up there," I admit freely. "The doctors were afraid not to let him up, and I'm not going to bother ordering him to come down." I snort. "Hell, he probably wouldn't leave her long enough to hand me his resignation if I did."

            "That's always the way," Brumby replies, and I shake my head. 

            "You just don't get it, Mr. Brumby. You never did." I glance over at the ICU doors. "They're a team. You can't have one without the other –"

            "And you can't come first?" He sounds fatalistic but resigned, and I wonder if the time he's obviously been spending with Ms. Peterson is helping him realize that in the end, Mac and Harm are going to end up together. I'm the furthest thing from a sappy romantic there is, but I've always been a realist and that's just the plain truth. Mac and Harm belong together, whether they've always understood it or not.

            "No, I don't believe you can," I reply softly. He nods slowly. 

            "I'll wait out here," he says, and offers me his hand. "I appreciate your honesty."

            "It's one thing I can always promise you," I respond, and we shake on it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Second verse, same as the first. I don't own JAG. If I did, this wouldn't be fanfiction, it would be the actual way things happened on the show. To the approval, I might add, of all of us shippers, who you've been stringing along for years.

A/N: This is the first time I've tried to write Brumby in as a basically decent guy, and I'm trying to extend Renee the same courtesy. However, that doesn't mean I have to keep them around much longer. Trying to make them both nice is exhausting.

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Two days later

Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Harm

            "Mac, you're going to have to wake up soon," I whisper in her ear, eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You know I've got faith in you, but some of these doctors have this silly idea that you're not planning on coming back to me and I'd appreciate your help in proving them wrong." 

            She doesn't respond, still motionless amid the tubes and electrical leads monitoring her status. I take her uninjured hand in mine and study it carefully. She has such delicate hands. I never really paid attention to them before. Her hands are much smaller than mine, but our fingers intertwine easily, fitting together with the palpable correctness of adjacent pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. I press a kiss to each of her knuckles before looking back up at her. 

            "Any time now, Marine," I tell her, stroking her cheek gently. Right now I'd do anything for her to just open her eyes and look at me, just for a moment. I don't allow myself to think about what that means, about why it is that we seem to fit together so perfectly. If I do that, I'll start thinking about Australia and her engagement and what I'd like to do about it, but I can't start that now. I can't even start to think that way until I know she's going to be all right.   

            "How's it going, Commander?"

            The voice from behind me makes me jump a little, and I can practically hear Mac laughing at me for being startled as I turn. 

            "About the same, Doc," I tell Bynes as he comes in. He nods, occupying himself with watching one of the monitors as I return my attention to Mac.

            "Please wake up," I whisper, softly enough that Bynes won't hear me. "Come on, Mac. We've got a lot of things to talk about. Wake up." I look at her for a moment, pale against the hospital-issue sheets, and lean in to kiss her forehead. "I love you, Sarah Mackenzie," I murmur into her ear, feeling something in my heart unclench as I finally say the words I've kept inside for so long. "I need you to wake up so I can tell you for real."

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Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Mac

            Struggling against the flood of darkness behind my eyelids, I feel something brush against my cheek. The feeling returns to my face, and I know without having to open my eyes that it's Harm's hand. I always know when he's around, and I know his touch from anyone else's.  

            "I always know where you are," a memory echoes in my head, and although I can't place the time he said it, I know it was Harm. I smile to myself and stop struggling. He'll watch out for me until I wake up. Secure in that knowledge, I fall back to sleep.

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Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Harm

            "I'll be damned," Bynes says, watching as one of the monitors jumps.

            "What's going on?" I demand, fear seizing my heart. 

            He smiles, tracing the line on the EEG. "Congratulations, Commander. Colonel Mackenzie just slipped from a coma into REM sleep. She's going to wake up."

            Bynes is polite enough to turn away as I finally let myself cry. 

            "Thank you," I whisper, brushing my lips against her ear. "Thank you, Sarah." I let the tears come without any resistance, knowing it's going to take me a long time to get over this. I know I'll never forget what it felt like to almost lose the most important person in my life. That's one of the things I intend to tell her as soon as she's awake. 

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An hour later

Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Harm

            "Harm?" she murmurs, shifting slightly under the covers. I capture her uninjured hand in one of mine, stroking her cheek with my other hand. 

            "I'm here," I whisper back, and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. "I've got you, Mac. It's going to be okay."

            "I never thanked you," she continues, eyes still closed. "I'm sorry. I meant to. It wasn't easy."

            "Thanked me for what, ninja girl?" I ask, brushing her hair back from her face. 

            "You saved my life. I've never had to kill anyone before, not hand to hand. I was so scared…you were right, I was giving the Corps a bad name. I needed a good kick in the six." The smile dances on her lips again, and I realize suddenly what she's talking about: the time my plane crashed in the woods and that poacher attacked her. I would have gleefully killed him with my bare hands, and I barely knew her then. I hate to think what I might do if something like that happened now.

            "Jeez, Mac, that was so long ago. And besides, you saved yourself. I was just there for moral support."

            She gives a short, breathy laugh. "Never would have made it…without you…flyboy," she murmurs, starting to fall asleep again. "Always meant…to say thanks."

            "You're very welcome," I whisper, continuing to stroke her hair. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

            "Mmm," she sighs, her hand tightening around mine. "Love you."

            Some part of me thinks I should freeze at those words, that after all the time we've spent dancing around them it should scare me witless, but it seems like the most natural thing in the world for me to respond in kind. Besides, I remind myself, I did say it first. She might not have been conscious, but that doesn't matter.

            "I love you, too, Sarah," I tell her, and something that's been wrong inside me since I left JAG last year sets itself right. Leaning in to kiss her forehead, I settle in for a long night in the patented torture device Bethesda has disguised as a visitor's chair. Never thinking to look behind me, I don't see the admiral smile from the doorway and head back to the waiting room, having overheard our whole conversation. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Five chapters later, the plot finally…um…shows up. Yeah. Sorry about that. Thanks for hanging in there. 

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Bethesda Naval Hospital, ICU

Mac

            "Ow," I mumble to myself, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain stabbing through my head. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." I try to lift my hand to my forehead and another jolt of pain stops me, this time from my arm. "Damn!" 

            I twitch my other hand cautiously and encounter resistance. I crack one eye open, cautious of my raging headache, and come face-to-chest with a familiar uniform. 

            "Harm?"

            I tap my fingers against his palm, trying to get him to let go, and he mutters something unintelligible in his sleep. I open my eyes fully, my headache settling into a holding pattern, and deduce from the sterile lighting and paint job that we're in a hospital. The dull throb in my right hand leads my gaze to it, and I see it's been meticulously bandaged and someone's set it on a pillow. I try carefully to move it again, and the resulting agony assures me I won't be writing briefs for a few weeks at least. 

            Writing briefs…the thought leads me back to Harm, sleeping in an odd position next to me. His head is resting on my pillow and his torso is on the bed, but his bottom half is twisted around in one of those awful hospital visitor's chairs. His right hand is wrapped around my uninjured one, and I squeeze it before pulling mine away.

            That motion wakes him, and he blinks down at me for a moment before he really registers that I'm awake. 

            "Hey," he whispers gently, sitting up and reaching over to brush my hair away from my face. "Welcome back, marine."

            "What happened?" I ask groggily, reaching for my injured arm with my free hand. He covers both of them with his hand, stroking my fingers with his longer ones. 

            "How much do you remember?"

            I frown, trying to think. "Um…" I begin, then stop and look around. "Is this Bethesda?"

            "Got it in one," he tells me with a smile.

            "I'm completely lost. How did we get here?"

            His smile dims slightly. "You got here by helicopter after your accident. You and Bud were driving back from Norfolk, and you were hit by a truck."

            I frown. "How did we get to Norfolk? The last thing I remember, you and I were still on the Watertown."

            His frown matches mine. "The Watertown?"

            "Yeah. The submarine, remember? Low ceilings, shared quarters, you and me at each other's throats for two weeks straight? You warned me about Hodge, but he blinded me – I couldn't see, and I knew he was trying to kill you. Then he grabbed my throat and I couldn't breathe –" I shiver, trying not to remember the feeling of needing oxygen and not being able to get it, not being able to breathe and trying so hard. Knowing I was going to die.

            "I thought I was dead."

            There are tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He wipes them away carelessly, all of his attention focused on me. 

            "You were," he whispers, taking a deep breath, and I know he's replaying it in his mind. "I had to do CPR. I thought I was going to lose you, Mac."

            I smile. "Can't lose me, flyboy," I assure him, and he gives me a watery smile in return. "So when was this car accident?" I ask, still unsure what's going on. "I don't remember anything after Hodge. How long have we been back?" 

            He looks down for a moment, then back up at me. "Mac, the accident was three days ago, but we came back from the Watertown two years ago."

            I gape at him. "Two years?"

            He nods slowly. 

            "When is it now? I mean, what's the date?"

            He checks his watch reflexively. "April 12th, 2001."

            I take a moment to think about that. "Jesus." 

            "I'll get the doctor."

            He moves to get up, but I grab his arm. "Harm, please don't go. I have no idea what's going on. I don't want –"

            I break off, but he's figured out the gist of it. I don't want to be alone two years after the last memory I can recall. He reaches over me instead and hits what must be a call button for the nurse, because one comes in a few moments later. 

            "What can I do for you, Commander Rabb – Oh!" she exclaims, seeing me. "Welcome back, Colonel Mackenzie. It's about time." She smiles. "I'll run and get Doctor Bynes."

            She disappears and I turn back to Harm, eyes wide. 

            "Colonel?"

            "Lieutenant Colonel," he informs me, lips quirking into a smile. "I made full commander a few months later. I'm amazed you don't rub it in more often than you do. Ma'am."

            "Must have been slipping my mind," I inform him. "From now on, feel free to do the paperwork yourself, oh junior officer of mine."

            He chuckles. "Don't worry, I'll just pass it down to Bud."

            My mind latches on to that and I nearly jump out of bed. "Bud!" I exclaim, and Harm reaches out to restrain me. "Harm, you said he was in that accident with me. Is he all right?"

            "He's fine," he reassures me. "He broke his ankle; he'll be off crutches in six weeks. No major life-threatening injuries."

            "Good," I sigh, leaning back. "I hate to think how poor Harriet would manage, pregnant and…oh my god. She's not pregnant anymore. It's been two years."

            "They named him after the admiral. AJ Roberts," Harm tells me, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "I know this must be hard for you, but we'll figure it out, I swear."

            I nod slowly, and a memory comes flitting back to me; a fleeting glimpse of Harm on the front steps of JAG, and a promise…

            "Don't make a promise you can't keep, flyboy," I tell him, remembering, and his eyes widen. 

            "I haven't yet," he whispers, and I nod. That was the right answer; it feels right. "You remember that?"

            "Not what it meant," I reply, "but I'm sure it was something important. I was so happy when you said it."

            He smiles again. "It was the most important promise I've ever made," he replies, and we're interrupted as there's a quick knock at the door before an unfamiliar, Santa Clause-esque man comes in. 

            "Morning, you two," he says cheerily, grabbing the chart from the foot of my bed. I can't help imagining him in a red-and-white fur outfit instead of green surgery scrubs.

            "Morning, Doc," Harm replies easily, smiling at the man. "Mac, this is Doctor Bynes. He's one of your biggest fans."

            "Never doubted you'd pull through," he confides to me in a stage whisper, and I can't help smiling. He's got great presence.

            "There's something wrong with me," I tell him, and he gives me a quick grin. 

            "Think it has something to do with being hit by a truck?" he guesses, and I laugh, surprised. 

            "I think so," I reply. "Apparently, it's April of 2001."

            His pen stills on the paper, and he looks up at me solemnly. The humor is gone from his eyes. "When should it be?"

            "The last thing I remember is February of 1999."

            He sets the chart down slowly. "You're right, Colonel. That is a problem." He looks over at Harm, then back to me. "I'll schedule you for another set of scans, but your last ones came back normal. If I had to guess, I'd say this is a reaction to the trauma and it'll go away on its own eventually. Until then, we'll keep running tests. I think we ought to keep you here until we're sure."

            "I think that's a good idea," Harm agrees, and I nod. I'm not the world's biggest fan of hospitals, but until they can figure out what's wrong with my memory, I'm pretty sure this is where I should stay. 


End file.
